


Surprise!

by khek



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-22
Updated: 2011-04-22
Packaged: 2017-10-18 12:44:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/189016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/khek/pseuds/khek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair is kidnapped...again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Surprise!

There was only a brief whisper of a sound behind him before something dark and slightly musty-smelling dropped over his head. A cord tightened around his throat. Blair automatically dropped his knapsack, reaching up to push away the object.

"Uh-uh-uh," a deep voice said, grabbing his hands and pulling them away. "No touching, Bud." Surprisingly gentle hands wrapped around his wrists and pulled them out and away. Blair tried to twist out of the strong grasp, but the hold tightened. "Look," the voice said, whispering into his ear, "this can be easy, or it can be difficult. There's a big reward in it being easy. Settle down."

Blair took a deep breath, coughing as dust entered his lungs. "Look, man," he choked out, "You're making a big mistake…"

Muffled laughter sounded around him. Blair could feel the press of bodies moving around him, and other hands ghosted over his body. Someone else took his wrists, and the first man pressed one big hand over Blair's mouth. "No talking, either," the deep voice said, the man's tone amused. "Follow the rules and everything will be fine. Understand?"

Blair shook his head, pushing against the hand. He tried to open his mouth, to protest, but the hand over his mouth pressed tighter as the man's other hand cupped the back of his head. "No talking," the voice repeated. The hands pressed together, and Blair's head felt like it was caught in a vise. A gentle vise, but a vise nonetheless. "Understand?" The man's hands dropped, allowing Blair to nod.

Someone pulled his hands together in front of him, and he heard the distinct rip of duct tape being pulled off a roll. He tried to pull away, but the man holding his head moved behind him, wrapping one arm around his chest to hold him in place. A third person grasped his wrists and rolled the duct tape around them, over the sleeves of his flannel shirt. Several people caught hold, and Blair felt himself lifted. There were grunts of effort as he was carried a short distance. There was the sound of a vehicle pulling up, and doors opening. "Please, please, please, not the trunk," Blair thought frantically, tensing. He was relieved when the hands holding him placed him on what seemed to be the floor of a van or SUV. The hands left him, and there was a flurry of movement as people stepped over and around him. The doors slammed, and then there was motion as the vehicle started moving.

The first voice spoke again. "Just be quiet and stay down. We'll be there soon. Don't worry, just enjoy the ride." Someone laid a blanket over him, and then two pairs of feet rested on his chest and legs.

Blair remained still physically, but his mind raced frantically. What the hell was going on?

* * *

Jim Ellison looked at his watch again. No sign of Sandburg. With a sigh, he reached for the phone and dialed his partner's cell phone number. Sandburg had promised to be at the station before noon, so he could go over the deposition for the Tyler case. He was already forty minutes late.

The phone rang several times. Jim was about to hang up in frustration when Sandburg picked up. "Running a little late, are we Chief?" he growled. There was a tiny gasp on the other end that sounded nothing like Blair. Jim hesitated. "Blair?"

"Um, no…" a cautious voice replied. "This is Tina. Who are you?"

Jim looked down at the phone display. He had definitely dialed Sandburg's number. "This is Blair Sandburg's phone," he answered. "What are you doing with it?"

"Blair? Blair the anthro TA?" the girl said in surprise. "This must be his knapsack too then."

Jim ran a hand over his eyes, not liking where this was going. "Tina," he said, "Can you tell me where you got the phone?"

"Sure," the girl stated. "I was going to my car, and I tripped over this knapsack lying beside the curb. I was just carrying it over to the Campus Police lost and found, when it started ringing. Since I've done that before when I lost my cell--called myself I mean--I answered it. If it's Professor Sandburg's, I can just drop it off at his office."

Jim stood. "Sandburg's not in sight?"

"No," Tina said slowly.

"Do you see his car? It's an old green…"

"Volvo," Tina ended. "He gave me a ride home once. Yeah, I see it. It's parked over in his regular space. Is he in trouble? Who are you again?"

"I'm Jim Ellison: Blair works with me at the Cascade PD. And yes, I'm afraid he might be in trouble. Are you outside Hargrove Hall? Can you wait there for a bit? I can be there in ten minutes."

"I can stay. I'll wait inside," Tina agreed.

Jim grabbed his keys, the deposition forgotten. Where was Blair?

* * *

Blair was still on the floor of a van, tense and bored. The men around him--he had figured out there were four of them in the back with him, and one person driving--were talking about the Jags. A very mundane conversation for kidnappers. Cautiously, he cleared his throat.

"Hey, Bud," someone said, putting a hand on his shoulder and shaking him. "Remember, no talking."

"But…" Blair started, deciding that he had to at least make the attempt.

"Duck tape!" one of the voices sang out, sounding amused. Blair shuddered. No one should be that happy to hold someone hostage. No one sane, anyway.

"It's not duck tape, it's duct tape," someone else replied. "Moron."

"Whatever it is, out little buddy doesn't want it across his mouth, does he?" the first man asked, shaking Blair slightly.

Blair shook his head. No, he really didn't. No duct tape. He could be patient.

It wasn't like he had a lot of choice.

* * *

"Tina." Jim greeted the young woman holding Blair's backpack.

"Do I call you Detective?" the young woman asked uncertainly.

"That'd be fine." Jim turned his gaze to the young man standing with Tina. "And you are…?"

"I'm Roger," the kid said, waving one hand. Sticking it back in his pocket, he rocked back on his heels.

"Roger saw Blair pulled into a van by a bunch of guys," Tina volunteered. "I thought you'd like to talk to him too."

Jim took a second look at Roger. The guy didn't look stupid. "You saw a kidnapping, and you didn't call the police?" Jim asked, his voice taking on the over-patient tone used most frequently with crazy people and small children. "Why?"

Roger pulled his hands out of his pockets and gulped. "I…I thought it was a joke."

"A joke," Jim repeated, his tone ominous. "And you thought that for what reason…"

Roger practically whimpered under the steady regard. "Because of the van..."

* * *

The van came to a halt. Blair gulped for breath as the doors opened.

"Not long now," the first man said, patting him on the shoulder. "You okay?" he asked, his voice suddenly sharp. When Blair shook his head, the man cursed. "Wait a minute Bobby," he called. There were suddenly hands at the tie around his neck, then the hood was lifted so that his mouth was exposed.

Blair took in some deep gulps of fresh air.

"Better?" his captor asked gently. When Blair opened his mouth to reply, a finger was held against it. "Nope, no talking."

Resigned, Blair nodded. His hopes rose a little though. Surely, if they were concerned about his well being, these kidnappers must not have any harm intended? He flinched, remembering some of his previous kidnappers. No great harm, anyway?

"Ready?" the man asked, patting him awkwardly on the shoulder again. Taking Blair's elbow in a firm grip, the man helped him clamber out of the van. It wasn't easy, blindfolded.

It felt weird to be walking without being able to see. Blair could tell that there was some kind of textured concrete under his feet; the path was solid and slightly bumpy. He sniffed. There were lilacs growing somewhere nearby. Not in the city, then. Probably. Unless they were near a park. He listened, but there were no unusual noises. A background rushing of cars, some birds, kids shouting somewhere nearby. Not that he'd recognize an unusual noise, anyway.

Not for the first time that day, Blair wished for just a touch of Jim's sentinel abilities.

"We're going up here," the man holding his elbow said. He waited as Blair felt his way up the steps. "Okay, here goes."

Blair tensed in nervous anticipation.

Someone giggled nearby as a door was opened. His captor moved behind him as Blair was pushed through. With an abrupt jerk, the hood was pulled from his head.

"Surprise!" Noisemakers sounded, muffled by the sound of laughter and catcalls.

Blair blinked as he was hit with confetti. Flashbulbs went off. He opened his eyes and looked around at the crowd…

Of total strangers.

The noise died down to a few murmurs. Blair stared at the crowd. They stared back.

"You're not Buddy," one woman in front of him finally ventured. People started whispering, the crowd slowly moving backwards, as if to divorce themselves from the situation. The woman stayed, her forehead wrinkled in a frown. She put down the drink she held on a nearby table.

"You're not Buddy?" the man behind Blair's asked, moving to stand in front him. "You're not Buddy," he repeated. He sounded shocked, and his face paled.

Blair looked up, finally seeing the face of the person who had kidnapped him. The guy was tall, with dark skin and light brown eyes. He was also dressed in ragged sailcloth breeches and a brilliant orange silk shirt, with hoop earrings and a bandana covering his head. Blair turned in a slow half circle, surveying the crowd; the woman who had spoken up was a dead ringer for Dorothy of Oz, down to the basket with a black stuffed dog in it. The men who had herded him into the house were a scarecrow, a clown, a mime, and someone who might have been either a dog or a horse. Around the room he saw everything from an Egyptian priestess to a cowboy, all studiously ignoring the scene playing out in the foyer.

Blair's mouth opened and closed it, but he couldn't think of what to say first. He finally shrugged and shook his head. "No, I'm not Buddy."

The man patted his shoulder, then pulled his hand away as if touching Blair had burned him. "Well, shit, man. Why didn't you say something?" Before Blair could respond indignantly to that particular observation, the man continued. "I'm Pete. Let me get that tape off you. I'm really sorry about this…" Blair tuned out, letting the babble of apologetic words wash over him, just savoring that this was a mistake. He sighed in relief as Pete started unwrapping the duct tape.

"What in the hell is going on here?" a new voice, this one behind Blair, roared. Blair jumped, then turned awkwardly. Pete moved with him, still unwinding. The mime, scarecrow, clown and dog/horse scattered. "Why is Bobby's van parked on my lawn? Who are all these people?"

The man standing in the doorway was a couple inches taller than Blair. Curly brown hair that reached midway down his back was pulled back into a ponytail at his neck. Brown eyes narrowed as he looked Blair up and down. Blair stared back at him with unabashed interest. That flannel shirt and jeans had seen better days, Blair decided.

"Buddy?" Blair asked, looking to Pete.

"Buddy," Pete replied.

Buddy looked ready to erupt. "Who are you? Pete, what are you doing here??"

Blair and Pete looked at him, then at each other. "Ask Dorothy," Blair said. "Pete's taking me home." Pete pulled off the last of the duct tape.

As they walked out of the house, past the purple van decorated with day-glo flowers, a ragged chorus of "Surprise!" sounded behind them.

* * *

"So, Sandburg, is it true that you were kidnapped by circus-folk?"

Laughter sounded around Major Crimes. "I heard it was gypsies," Rafe contributed. "The van was certainly flashy enough to stand in for a caravan."

"No, Hairboy was grabbed by aliens!" H called out.

"Hippies!" Someone else shouted out.

Blair just grinned, staring at the computer in front of him, typing up the report. Pete, Dorothy and the rest of the kidnapping crowd were going to have to do some community service for this little fiasco.

"You want me to shut them up Chief?" Jim asked softly.

"Nah, let them laugh," Blair said, looking up at him. "They were worried, this is their way of dealing with it."

Jim nodded, studying him as he handed him a mug filled with tea. "You must have been a little worried too. Are you sure you're okay?"

Taking a sip of the tea, Blair sighed with satisfaction. "Yeah. It was a...bit nerve-wracking when it was happening, but I'm fine now." He put the mug down and reached out to slap Jim on the arm. "I have to admit though, I certainly was happy to see you, driving around that corner on two tires, defying gravity and all just for me."

Jim tried to look offended. "Hey, you owe me for last week's movie. I wasn't going to let a bunch of pirates and clowns carry you off."

Blair snorted. "Riiight. And that was it. Movie money."

"Stop fishing, Chief." Jim ruffled Blair's hair, and pushed past him to sit at the desk. "You know I'd never let anything happen to you."

"Aw, you say the nicest things," Blair teased.

Jim smiled. "Nothing but the truth, Chief," he said softly. "Nothing but the truth."

 

* * *

The End


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